Frogs, Mud, and Norwegians
by fredesrojo
Summary: Belated birthday fic for MissJayne. Jibbs, AU, smut.


_**A/n: Sooo, this is a somewhat belated birthday fic for MissJayne.**_

_**It developed from a oneshot idea the two of us discussed ages ago concerning Gibbs, Jenny, mud, sports, and a considerable dash of smut. **_

_**Strangely, this is what resulted.**_

_**This involves the ******__Jibbs AU I established way back when for the Secret Santa Jibbsfest, where Jenny and Gibbs have been married since Paris and have two sons, Logan Jasper "LJ" Gibbs (nine) and Maddox "Max" Conor Gibbs (four). _

_**Oh, and I decided on nixing the first ending I wrote and just posting the smut instead.**_

_**Happy belated birthday, Olivia!**_

* * *

_**"Frogs, Mud, and Norwegians"**_

_In which Max Gibbs gets his dad and elder brother Logan into a whole heap of trouble over a frog, and Jethro explores his nonexistent Norwegian heritage._

Max Gibbs was muddy and wet, and extremely proud of it. The four year old grinned up at his father, clapping mud smeared hands together. "Look, Daddy!"

Jethro Gibbs groaned under his breath as he knelt gingerly by his mud coated son. "Hey, Max. How'd you get into all this mud, sport?"

"Frog, Daddy!" Max pointed to a croaking frog sitting off on the opposite edge of the mud pit.

"You were chasin' a frog?"

"Yup! He's fast." The normally auburn haired little boy scrambled to his feet as the frog let out a deafening croak and hopped away. "No, frog, no! Come back!"

"Max…"

His father's warning was lost as Max careened across the mud, slipping and sliding as he chased after the slippery green creature.

Gibbs groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "Your mom is gonna _kill_ me."

"Why's Mom gonna kill you?" Logan Gibbs trotted up, soccer bag dangling from his free hand.

"Take a look at your brother."

"Oh, boy." Logan gulped. "Think we can get him cleaned off here before we go home?"

Jethro snorted, ruffling the nine year old's hair. "Ya got a hose?"

He shrugged. "No, but there's dog showers behind the Rec Center over there."

"Maybe your Mom won't kill us after all." Gibbs glanced between his youngest son flailing about in the mud chasing the frog and the darkening sky. "Whatever we do, we better hurry. Looks like it's gonna storm."

Logan nodded. "I'll go hook up the hose."

* * *

Three soaking wet and very miserable looking Gibbs men trooped into the house an hour and a half later, dripping a steady stream of mud, grass, and rainwater onto the mudroom floor.

"Boys, is that you? I've been wondering where you got…to…" Jenny Shepard-Gibbs trailed off mid sentence as her emerald green eyes focused on the scene in front of her. "Jethro?"

He froze halfway through peeling a sopping wet hoodie off his torso, swallowing audibly. "Hey, Jen."

"What the hell happened?"

Logan glanced up miserably from unlacing his grass splattered cleats. "It started rainin'."

"That doesn't explain the mud and grass." Jenny folded her arms across her chest, staring her husband down. "Or why Max looks like he lost a fight with a swamp."

Max giggled, stomping in the puddle of grimy water gathering at his feet. "Frog, Mama! I caught a frog!"

Jethro winced. "Uh…it's not what it sounds like, honest, Jenny."

She smiled thinly, her gaze dangerous. "And what exactly is it supposed to sound like? I thought you three were going to Logan's soccer practice?"

"Max found a frog." Logan stripped his waterlogged soccer shirt off, dropping it in the growing pile of wet clothes. "And the frog was kinda in some mud."

"Kinda?"

"We tried to get him out of it, but it was too late, so we were gonna wash him off at the Rec Center…" Jethro trailed off as his wife's glare darkened. "A-and, uh…it started raining." He finished lamely, his hair sticking up in all directions as he tugged his wet undershirt over his head.

"So let me get this straight. You three went to Logan's practice."

"Uh huh."

"And Max got into mud going after a frog."

"Uh huh."

"And you were going to hide this from me by washing him off at the Rec Center, but it started raining, and now you're all dripping mud and water and grass all over my nice clean floors."

"Er…that about sums it up, yeah."

She stared at them for a long moment, letting out a deep sigh. "Upstairs, to the bathroom, all of you. Leave your clothes here."

A muted chorus of "Yes, Mom" and "Yes, Jen" echoed around her as they trooped towards the stairs in their underwear, leaving a muddy pile of clothes on the floor.

Jethro had Max and Logan in a warm bath by the time she got the clothes to the washer and headed upstairs, both boys swathed in bubbles and participating in a rather enthusiastic bubble flinging match with their father.

"Having fun?"

Her husband looked up guiltily, the remnants of a bubble beard clinging to the end of his chin. "They rinsed off in the shower first. I figured a bath would warm them up."

Max made a bubble mountain and stacked his Hulk bath toy on top, grinning through a matching bubble beard. "Hulk smash!"

Jenny smiled briefly at her little boy. "I can see that, Max." She glanced back at Jethro, jerking her head over her shoulder. "Go get in the shower or you'll catch a cold."

He very briefly considered asking if she'd join him, but thought better of it when her eyes sharpened as if she'd read his mind. "I'm goin', Jen."

* * *

She was leaning against the door of their bedroom when he finally emerged from the master bath, towel slung low around his hips.

"I can't believe you let Max play around in the mud."

"I didn't _know_ he was, Jen." He sighed, scrubbing a hand through damp hair that stood on end as his fingers mussed through it. "LJ's coach asked me to help run a drill. Max was climbing on the bleachers and must have found the patch of mud when he took off after the frog. Jen, I was gonna get him cleaned up. We weren't really anticipating a big rainstorm to hit."

"You let his nice outfit get all dirty! My aunt _bought_ that for him, Jethro, and now it's probably ruined because it spent three hours soaked in mud."

"What do ya want me to say, Jen?" Jethro threw his hands up helplessly, exasperated. "Boys will be boys. They don't care about getting dirty and like getting into a whole hell of a lot of stuff, and there's not much stopping them."

She scowled, shaking her head. "We should have had girls."

"Hah, please. You're just pissed you can't doll them up in pink."

"No, but the overload of testosterone in this house is extremely annoying."

He shuffled closer, winding his arms around her waist and tugging her back against his torso. "Aaaah, you know you love us. We make your life interesting, babe."

"Yeah, you sure make my life _something_." She gave him a dirty look out of the corner of her eye, shaking her head. "_Your_ sons are in bed waiting for you to say goodnight."

Jethro kissed her cheek gently and pulled away, fishing a pair of boxers out of his drawer and sliding them on before he went to say goodnight to the boys. He stopped in the doorway, glancing back. "Hey, Jen."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"Hmph." She turned away and strode into her closet, refusing to let him think he'd managed to get himself out of the doghouse for this one.

* * *

She was in bed with a stack of files to review when he returned, wearing one of his old Marine Corps t-shirts and a pair of her short sleep pants.

"Aww, you're no fun."

"Go to bed, Jethro."

"But I'm cold." He coughed harshly for effect, curling closer her warm body, mumbling quietly through chilled lips. "Can't shake this damn chill."

Jenny sighed, glancing at him over her glasses as she lowered the file she had been reviewing. "It got in your bones."

Jethro chuckled and moved closer, his hand ghosting along her thigh under the sheets. "You know what the uh, Norwegian fishermen used to tell me?"

"You're not Norwegian." She gave him a dry look, capturing his wandering hand and returning it to his side of the bed.

He smirked, reaching with his free hand for the waistband of the sleep pants she wore. "If one of their crewmen fell into that c-c-cold water, they'd head back to port, and take him to the nearest house and throw him in bed with a woman, no matter who she was." He slipped the pants down, extracting them from under the covers, making sure to brush his fingers against her inner thighs as he worked.

Jenny relented, letting go of his hand and settling back more into the pillows with an appreciative murmur. "Yeah, where'd you learn that?"

"I read it someplace." He'd already ditched his boxers as he leaned over her, tongue and lips tracing the curve of her neck. "It-it saves lives, gets the blood pumpin'."

"And since when do you read?"

"What do you care?" He grinned as she finally discarded the stack of files with a roll of her eyes, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her up over his body.

Jenny sighed, leaning down and framing his face with her hands, pressing her lips against his languidly."I guess we'll have to warm you up then, huh?"

"Oh yeah." Jethro grinned wolfishly, sliding his hands up her bare thighs. "You gonna ditch the shirt anytime soon?"

"That'd make it too easy." Jenny grinned dangerously and went back to laving kisses across his neck and shoulders, momentarily forgetting exactly where his hands were. She gasped when he reminded her, sliding a chilled hand against her and holding it there. "Jethro…"

"Hm?" His smirk was smothered as she leaned forward, attacking his mouth with her lips, hands fumbling for the hem of her shirt.

The shirt was off within seconds and he pulled away from her lips, enjoying the hell out of the view.

She trapped both his wrists within her hands, pushing them up to rest against the headboard as she leaned down to resume kissing him, grinning against his lips when her actions drew a strangled moan.

"Damn, Jen." He struggled briefly in her grip, bucking his hips upwards pleadingly. "C'mon, Jenny, pl—." He choked off a gasp as she finally shifted down onto him, his legendary self control hanging by a thread.

Jenny laughed low in her throat as she nibbled at his earlobe, moving slowly. "This warming you up, Jethro?"

His head dropped back against the pillows, hands twisting ineffectually in her grip as he struggled to hold on to what little control he had left. "Jen…Jenny…Jenny, please…" He moaned loudly when she leaned back a little, changing the angle from good to amazing.

"Mmm…with me?"

"Uh huh." He finally extracted one hand, reaching up to tangle his fingers in her hair and tug her down for a bruising kiss, muffling a shout as he came, closely following her.

Jenny finally relaxed her grip on his other hand and shifted off of him after a long rest, laughing hoarsely against his neck.

"Warm enough now?"

"Oh yeah." Jethro wrapped his arms low around her waist, tugging her back over his torso. "Damn, that was good."

"Uh huh." Jenny settled her head more comfortably in the crook of his neck, eyes slipping closed sleepily.

They were both well on their way into the arms of Morpheus when he spoke up one last time, chuckling low in his chest.

"Toldja the Norwegians were right."

* * *

**_A/n: Eh, what can I say?_**

**_*shrug*_**

**_-m_**


End file.
